


And V'Ger Make Four

by Djinn



Series: Three's Apparently Not a Crowd [4]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 12:09:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8371837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djinn/pseuds/Djinn
Summary: The threesome takes on Star Trek: The Motion Picture. This follows on the heels of "Man and Man and Wife."





	

Christine watched the crewmen from the quartermaster's shop trying to wrestle her huge bed into the captain's quarters on the refurbished _Enterprise_. They were grumbling something about Admiral Kirk's bleepity-bleep perks. 

Feeling a quick touch on her shoulder, she turned and saw that Spock had come up behind her. He was watching the crewmen with a look of fascination, as if figuring the odds of success for their furniture-moving venture.

Shaking her head at him, she said, "We're about to set out on a barely finished ship to meet the next unstoppable instrument of galactic destruction, and Jim decides we must have our bed with us?"

"It is the perfect bed for the three of us, Christine." Spock's expression was light as he looked at the bed.

She found herself smiling. He was right. They'd had some marvelous times in that bed. The sex had been fun too. 

She forced herself to leave memory lane. "But if this assignment is just temporary...?"

"What do you think the odds are that Jim will give up this ship now that he has her back?"

"Slim to none, and slim just left town?"

"Precisely." He touched her again on her back, where the crewmen would not see him doing it.

She leaned into his hand, finding comfort in his warmth. "We could all die, Spock." She swallowed hard. It wasn't that she was a coward; she just suddenly had so much to live for. Marriage to the man of her dreams was amazing. Marriage to both of them was mind blowing.

"I am aware of that. As is Jim." Breathing a sigh of relief as the crewmen managed to get the bed into their quarters, he gently turned her away from the door, which was nice because she got to look at him. "Our bed is fine, my wife; you can return to work."

She grinned at him—he loved calling her that. Sometimes he called Jim that too, just to get a rise out of him. Never let it be said Spock didn't have a sense of humor. "But I wasn't the only one worried about it?"

"You were not. If Jim were not busy with Commander Decker, I'm sure he would be here too." Spock managed to look a little sad for the former captain of the _Enterprise_.

"Poor guy. What's going to happen to him?"

Spock didn't shrug, but somehow he gave the impression of it. "He will find a new direction. I am afraid the three of us are blocking any path to the future on this ship."

"Sucks to be him." She smiled at Spock's almost frown. "Well, can I help it if I'm happy that we're all together? And that Jim's in a better mood?"

"You cannot help how you feel. You can help how you demonstrate those feelings." His tone was the quintessential first officer, but his expression was light. He knew she would never rub her happiness in Decker's face.

The crewmen walked out, glaring at both of them. "The bed's in place." The same men had already removed the bed that had been in the captain's quarters, which had been quite an achievement considering it had been a built-in job. 

"Speaking of demonstrating feelings?" Christine waggled her eyebrows at him. "Call Jim and tell him we've got an emergency in our new quarters." She laughed at his look. "Okay, fine. But later we will hold a dedication ceremony. Surely there's a Vulcan ritual for movement of the communal bed?"

"If there is, I am not aware of it." Spock's look was professional and stern, but he was gently pushing her into the captain's quarters. As the door closed, he pulled her to him, kissing her passionately—something she wouldn't have believed he'd ever do back when she'd had her hopeless crush on him.

Life was so great, upcoming encounter with a doomsday machine notwithstanding.

Pulling away, Spock stroked her cheek, and she could feel his love for her in the glancing touch of his fingers on her skin.

"I love you," she murmured.

He smiled. A tiny smile, so tiny that most people would never be aware of it. But most people weren't married to him.

"I love you, Christine. Now, shall we see how Jim is faring with Commander Decker?" His arm tightened around her, as if he did not want to let her go, not when they might be killed soon. 

It was how she felt, too. And she knew they both wanted to be with Jim. "But I thought you said I had to go back to work?"

Again the almost shrug. "Doctor McCoy finds many creative ways to 'work' on the bridge. Why should you not do the same?" He let her go as he moved toward the door.

"Why indeed?" she said, as she followed him out to the lift. It was taking her some time to get used to the ship. She'd been intimately familiar with the layout before they'd refitted her, but now it was very confusing—all the corridors looked alike to her.

The lift doors opened onto the bridge, revealing a very angry Will Decker, who looked up and favored them both with a livid stare. Christine knew this had to be hard for him. Jim and Spock had debated the merits of either making Decker first officer and letting Spock serve as science officer, or reversing the deal. Either way, Jim was going to go to Spock for support, and everyone knew it. 

It might be kinder to confine Decker to his quarters than to marginalize him on what should have been his own bridge. She looked over at Jim, saw him smile wryly at her. She had a feeling he was wishing Decker was anywhere but here.

The doors opened behind them, and she felt lightheaded, then she had a sudden need to grab Spock, Jim, or just the nearest upright and do some serious rubbing. She turned to see who had come in and was startled to find a Deltan standing behind her and Spock.

"Lieutenant Ilia reporting for duty, sir." The Deltan glanced over at Decker. "Cap—Commander. It's good to see you again."

"Ilia," he said, Adam's apple moving convulsively as he swallowed. He suddenly dropped his hands into the fig leaf camouflage configuration.

Raw Deltan pheromones assailed Christine, and she heard Spock suck in breath. Glancing at him, she saw his pupils dilate as he looked back at her, then at Jim. For his part, Jim seemed better off, but then he was farther away. As Ilia moved past them and onto the bridge proper, Jim seemed to perk up and take notice—some parts of him more noticeably than others. He too donned the fig leaf hand arrangement.

"Deltan," she heard Uhura say softly.

"Deltan," Chekov echoed back dreamily.

Sulu didn't say anything, but he suddenly looked very nostalgic. Christine remembered he'd told her his Academy roommate had been involved with a Deltan. And she'd been fond of Sulu. Very fond.

"Deltan," Jim said, his tone that of the captain she remembered, the one who'd always had an ace up his sleeve. "And you and Commander Decker are...acquainted."

"My oath of celibacy is on record." There could not have been more scorn in her voice.

Jim smiled. It was the slightly snaky smile he had when he was about to pull a fast one. Christine tried to bite back a laugh. 

"Yes. About that oath. We have no record of that. Do we, Mister Spock?" He almost winked at Spock and Christine.

"We do not," Spock said, ever the enabler.

"It may be the end of the world as we know it. Who wants to get all hung up over an oath?" Jim herded both Ilia and Decker into the turbolift. "Will, show Lieutenant Ilia the ship, won't you? Maybe start with your new quarters. Or hers." He waved as the doors closed, his grin smug. 

Another problem solved. 

"Okay then. Who's the back-up navigator?"

Nobody answered. Everyone except Spock and Christine was busy staring at the lift doors, various degrees of lust on their faces.

"Yo, people!" Jim clapped his hands loudly, bringing them all back from the happy "loving the nice bald woman" place they'd apparently gone to. "Navigator. Back-up. Who?"

"DiFalco, sir," Sulu said.

"Well, get her up here." Jim smiled. It wasn't the nicest look. Rubbing his hands, he glanced over at Christine and Spock. "Everything all right in our quarters?"

The few bridge crew that weren't their friends gaped.

"Everything is fine," Christine said, going to stand next to McCoy.

"Finally figured out this is where the action is, eh?" He winked at her. "Or did Spock put you up to this because the big lug couldn't stand to not have both of you with him?" 

Sometimes, Len understood them to a scary degree. 

"Yes and yes," she said, smiling at DiFalco as the woman hurried off the lift and onto the bridge. She was a pretty thing, might have been just Jim's cup of tea if he weren't already more than happily engaged.

"Set course for our invading menace, DiFalco. Take us out, Mister Sulu."

Sulu glanced back at the lift, then fiddled with the controls. "Aye, sir."

Jim looked over as Spock moved behind her to take his place at the science station. "Just like old times."

"Better," she said.

He grinned at her, then past her at Spock, who said softly, "Indeed. The best of times."

She knew he was right. They might die, but it didn't matter. It was the best of times. And they all seemed to know it. 

##

"Damn it, Jim!" McCoy was pacing in Jim's office. 

Christine was getting dizzy watching him as he moved across and back, across and back.

"First you nearly get us killed by a damn wormhole, then DiFalco gets injured by that probe thing trying to beam her off the bridge, now you're going to let Spock go out to merge with that thing?"

Just a few hours ago, McCoy had been wondering why every unknown entity was called a thing. Christine noticed he seemed to have no issues using the term now.

She walked to the window and stared out at the blueness that surrounded them. "Why is it blue?"

She heard someone get up, then Jim was standing next to her. "Has to be some color."

"But why blue? It might mean something." She was grabbing at straws. She did not want Spock to go out there.

She heard Jim sigh and could feel his anxiety about Spock's plan through the bond. She knew he could feel her own unease. She was willing to bet Spock could feel it, too, but he just looked at them both blandly.

"You have a better idea, Doctor?" When McCoy didn't answer, Spock turned to her. "It is blue because it is blue, Christine. If we wish to understand it, I must go out there. I will not be alone; you will be with me." He touched his head.

"Small consolation if it kills you, Spock," she said.

Jim shot her a glance full of warning.

"What? We're not going to say it?"

"No. We're not. We did not just get married for him to go out and get himself killed. End of story. Spock will go, meld, and come back. Easy peasy." Jim sounded far from sure.

"Easy peasy, my ass." But she didn't say more, just turned to stare out at the pulsing blueness.

She hated blue. She whirled around, suddenly wanting to drink in the sight of Spock. If this blue thing hurt him, she'd kill it.

"And where the hell is Decker?" McCoy looked over at Jim.

"With Ilia, I imagine. We don't need him, Bones." Jim turned to Spock. "You ready?"

"I am." Spock actually looked eager to meld with a new partner.

"Four's a crowd." She thought she'd muttered it to herself, but all three men turned to look at her. "I'm just saying..."

Following the others out, she went to the bridge and watched as Spock exited the ship and maneuvered his way to the orifice that seemed to open and shut to some natural rhythm, as if the thing had a heartbeat. Through the bond, she could feel Spock's calm, could hear it in his voice as he recorded the experience. 

A scientist, hopefully not to the bitter end.

"I am attempting to meld with the entity." Spock held up his hands. "Our minds are one. Our minds are—"

Christine could feel something reach through the bond, she felt intense curiosity and an utter alienness. 

"Who are you?" she heard Spock think to it.

"V'Ger." The thing's voice rang through her head painfully. "You will explain the nature of your existence to V'Ger."

She saw Jim wince at the volume the thing was using. She tried to send him support through the bond and felt V'Ger's attention suddenly focus on her and Jim.

"What is this? You are a union? You are...a collective?"

"We are joined, yes." Spock sent her and Jim a caution. He obviously did not want them think-saying the wrong thing. 

She tried like hell to still her mind.

"Joined." V'Ger's essence caressed her mind, then pushed hard. 

"Owwwwww," she said, pushing back despite her best efforts not to resist.

V'Ger didn't seem upset. In fact, it seemed intrigued. "Demonstrate unity," it said.

She could feel Jim coming up next to her, his mental presence also getting stronger. "Demonstrate how?"

They all got a sudden vision of an even more intense blue place. V'Ger started to feed the coordinates directly to the ship. On the screen, Spock was being inexorably pulled into the orifice, which was widening to accommodate the ship too. Spock was going far too fast for the suit to be providing the energy—V'Ger was taking him on a little joy ride.

Jim glanced at her. "Come into my parlor..." He looked back to where DiFalco should have been sitting; Chekov had taken over his old post. "Set a course to the location the entity just downloaded into our system."

"Aye, sir." Chekov looked down and retrieved the information. 

"Ahead half impulse, Mister Sulu." Jim sighed, rather more loudly, Christine thought, than he meant to. "And try not to run Spock down."

"Aye, sir," Sulu said with such seriousness that she realized hitting Spock wasn't out of the realm of possibility. Hitting him, or at least bumping him with the deflectors, which wouldn't hurt the ship in the least but definitely would not be fun for Spock.

The lift doors opened. A bedraggled Decker and Ilia stumbled onto the bridge, smelling of sex and more sex.

"More unity," V'Ger said, as if it was sensing the Will-and-Ilia apres-sex essence through the meld and the bond. "They will accompany you to demonstrate."

"We're being upstaged," she whispered to Jim.

He frowned, and his eyes seemed to be watering. Christine realized hers were also. Deltan pheromones after the fact seemed akin to slicing onions. She looked over at Sulu, and he was smiling despite his watering eyes. It was a warm, happy, "this once was mine" type of smile.

He met her eyes, his smile growing deeper. "Once you've gone Deltan..." he murmured.

The ship slowed on its own, then stopped, as if it had run aground. Strange, blocky things began to worm their way out to the ship.

"Come." V'Ger had a bit of a rushed tone to its mental voice.

"Decker, Ilia, you too," Jim said as he hurried with her to the lift. "We'll need suits for—"

"There is a nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere, Jim. You will need no suits." Spock's voice was dreamy, as if this was the best meld ever. "The span of knowledge that V'Ger has. It has met races we have no concept of. A life form that lives only one nano-second but knows all in that time. A warlike species that exists in fluidic space." He went on, detailing countless cultures V'Ger had run across in its travels.

"Machines. A planet of living machines. That is V'Ger's home world." Spock was definitely getting a buzz off the meld; Christine was starting to get a bit dizzy herself.

They stepped out of the ship, into what should have been the vacuum of space but was instead a comfortable if creepy-as-hell environment. She saw Decker reach for Ilia's hand and felt the rush of the Deltan's pheromones fill the newly formed air.

"God," Jim murmured, reaching for her hand. "Want you."

She felt another rush of pure libido. "Want you," she said, having a hard time not just pushing him to the ground and climbing on top of him.

"Yes. Unity. Demonstrate."

Lights flashed around Decker and Ilia, as if V'Ger was scanning them for transport. Jim moved to push them away, but Decker held his hand up. "No. This is ours, not yours."

The lights began to flare in earnest, as if they were flames that roared around the two of them but never consumed then. Christine saw Decker pull Ilia to him; their clothes seemed to dissolve.

"Deltans are used to groups too," she said softly, then saw Jim react to something behind her. Turning, she felt enormous relief as Spock sauntered up to them. He looked like he had when he'd bought the ganja incense: mellow as hell and higher than a kite.

"V'Ger does not understand this simple feeling," Spock said, as he stripped off his space suit and his uniform. Then he yanked off their clothes before pulling them both to him. 

V'Ger might not understand, but it obviously wanted to learn. Just beyond Jim, Christine could see Decker and Ilia were also going for it. With great gusto. The lights flared even higher. Christine hoped that this little show wasn't being broadcast to the whole ship—or even just the bridge crew.

Then she couldn't think at all as Spock melded with her and Jim. His mind pushed down on hers, calm, happy, so in love with both of them. She felt herself relaxing despite the strangeness. Gave herself up to making love to the two men she loved most. Fighting this feeling was futile—they were her world. 

They were one.

"One," V'Ger seemed to echo in her mind. "Futile."

Decker and Ilia suddenly cried out, as the fire no longer burned around them, as it turned into a vaguely humanoid-shaped pillar and dived into the sensual fray. Christine lay back against Spock and Jim and watched as the entity took three to a whole new level. As Decker and Ilia began to glow as brightly as the V'Ger fire was blazing, Spock hauled both Jim and her to their feet, handing them their uniforms, which they pulled on quickly.

"We must go. This atmosphere will become unstable." He practically ran to the ship, leaving the environmental suit behind.

Christine followed, stopping to look back when a flash of light lit up the blue, turning it to purest white. 

Jim grabbed her, pulled her. "Come on."

She ran, but kept looking back, captivated despite the danger. A whirlwind was streaming around where Decker and Ilia had stood. Spock's environmental suit flew into it, trapped for a moment until it smashed into the light, its red lights blinking wildly as it disappeared. 

The flash came again, and Christine thought she saw something in the middle of the light. Human-ish, bald, part living creature, part machine. 

"We are one. Resistance is futile," V'Ger whispered in her mind, in all of their minds, as it flared again in the throes of the orgasm of all orgasms.

Jim yanked her through the hatch, yelling as he engaged the lock, "Mister Sulu, get us out of here."

There was no reply, but the ship began to move in full reverse.

"Come on," Jim said, as he pulled at his uniform. 

They ran for the lift, riding it up to the bridge and spilling out in time to see the new life form pulling the blue energy and constructs that were V'Ger around it. It was making some kind of ship. A square ship. A square ship that winked out of sight in the blink of an eye.

"Spock?"

Spock smiled, a dreamy smile, then he began to cry, shocking them all. "V'Ger has moved to a new plane of existence. It has embraced its emotions and will seek to share its experience. None will be a stranger. It is beautiful. I weep for it like a brother. Like my brother."

"Not the brother thing again," Jim muttered to her.

She rolled her eyes. Spock really had to find a new shtick.

"But, sir. What happened?" Uhura stared at where V'Ger had been. "We saw you walk out, then everything went black."

"Thank God," Jim said under his breath as he pulled at his uniform.

Christine realized he hadn't had time to put his underwear back on. Then she realized she hadn't either. She surreptitiously checked out Spock. Naturally, he was perfectly put together, if you discounted the big, dramatic sobs that were coming from him. 

She crossed over to him, leaned down and whispered, "Better cheer up, love, or there won't be any room in that big, big bed for you."

He sobbed once more, than seemed to hold himself unnaturally still. "No room in our bed?"

"Not for cry babies."

He looked up at her. "I feel much better." He wiped at his face.

She looked over at Jim. His uniform was definitely riding up. She saw Len watching all three of them.

He grinned. "Well, I guess the crisis is over?"

Jim nodded.

"Then I'm confining you to quarters until I rule out any possible side effects from being outside the ship without a suit. No telling what that V'Ger thing did to you." He winked, then held up his hand as if to stop Jim's argument mid word—not that Jim was arguing. "Don't try to talk me out of it. You go on now."

Jim looked over at Sulu. "Mister Sulu, you have the conn."

"Aye, sir," Sulu said, grinning broadly. He looked at Uhura and Chekov, then over at McCoy. "We took the liberty of leaving you a bottle of champagne in your quarters, Captain. Thought you might have something you needed to christen." His grin grew incredibly nostalgic, as if he'd just gone to his own communal nice place. 

"Well, Bones, if you're sure it's absolutely necessary to quarantine us?" Jim glanced back at the screen, as if to reassure himself that V'Ger was really gone. 

"I'm sure. Go on. Get out of here."

Jim looked at the screen one more time. Then he motioned for Spock and Christine to follow him. 

They wasted no time in going. They did indeed have something they needed to christen.

##

As they entered their quarters, the intercom shrilled. "Uhura to Captain Kirk."

"Kirk here." 

"Nogura on your private channel. One moment, sir."

Jim smiled, holding his finger to his lips—as if Spock and Christine had to be told not to make a sound...

Spock sat down at Jim's desk, pulling Christine onto his lap. Jim watched him and pouted a bit, as if not liking being left out. Spock smiled—not just an almost smile, but a real smile. Another side effect of V'Ger, no doubt. He pulled Christine to him, kissing her in a way they both knew drove Jim nuts—he could never not join in when he saw them doing this.

Except of course when his boss was booming across the intercom, "Jim?"

"Here, sir."

"Damn fine work. The entity's gone. Now you can come home and give the ship back to Decker."

Spock stopped kissing her and turned to watch Jim. His eyebrow went up as if wondering what story their husband would come up with.

"Well, sir, that's a bit of a problem. You see, Decker went with the entity. So did Lieutenant Ilia."

"'Went with?' What the hell does that mean?"

"They're gone, sir. Missing in action."

"Damn. Well, I'm going to have to find someone to captain that ship, Jim. Have you got any ideas?" Nogura sounded as if he knew exactly what Jim would say.

Jim didn't disappoint him. "I'd be happy to, sir. Thanks for asking."

"Wasn't aware I had. But I doubt I'll be able to pry your fingers off the command chair. All right, Jim. She's yours. Again. Nogura out."

Jim did an interesting butt shake and shoulder swing, some sort of Kirk victory dance that probably would have dislocated anyone else's back—their husband was so very...limber. He turned to them, his expression stern as he strode over and picked up the champagne bottle.

"We're not really going to break that, are we?" Christine asked.

"Are you nuts?" He pulled her off of Spock's lap and handed her the bottle, then pulled Spock up. "We're drinking the damn thing."

"I do not wish to drink, Jim," Spock said, his expression still pretty euphoric as far as the Spock dreamy quotient went.

"More for us then," Christine said, smiling as Jim pulled her in for a kiss. If anything, the good news and weird interaction with V'Ger seemed to have made him extra randy. She could feel his desire pulsing through the bond. 

Then Spock reached over and melded with them, their minds instantly in tune, so used to each other that it took no effort on any of their parts to sink into bliss. The desire roared up to amazing levels.

"We did it," Jim said, as he tore off their clothes.

"Yes, Jim, we did," Spock said, as he returned the favor while Christine opened the bubbly. 

They weren't sure where the glasses were, so she and Jim passed the bottle back and forth. Spock began to giggle, the bubbles apparently leaking to him through the meld. 

"Okay, you're creeping me out." Jim kissed him, trying to get him to stop laughing, but it didn't work.

"Turnabout is fair play, then." He pulled Christine to him, kissing her the way they knew drove Spock crazy with lust.

Spock's sigh and the feel of his progress over the mattress told her that Jim's ploy was working. Then there was nothing but his and Jim's mouths touching hers and each other's, the feeling of them kissing playing back to her through the meld and bond. At one point, she thought she felt the slightest touch of V'Ger, thought she felt a prick as if from an old fashioned needle syringe, then a strange lethargy and bliss as she began to climb the road to the perfect climax.

She tried to raise her head, couldn't. "I think we've created a monster, guys."

Jim looked over at her. "You felt it, too, just then? V'Ger?"

She nodded. "What was it doing?"

Spock smiled. "Just as we are part of it now, so will many other species be. It is adding the distinctiveness of others to its pattern."

"Define distinctiveness," she said. "You mean other sexual habits?"

"Other positions?" Jim asked with a grin.

Spock smiled again. That oogly smile that made both Jim and her stare at him, then lean in to kiss it away. When they were done, he lay back and sighed. "Yes, that is what I mean. It will be one. Resistance is futile."

Somehow his words caused shivers to run down her spine. She looked over at Jim; he looked worried too.

"A monster?" he asked her. "You're sure?"

"I just have this feeling."

"So do I." He sighed. "So maybe we should go after it?"

But V'Ger's essence was fading, and they had no way to track it. 

Spock rolled over to his side, pulling them both closer to him, their heads resting against his chest. "V'Ger is gone. Its quest will take it far from here."

"But it'll be back," Jim said. Then he shook his head. "I mean, they'll be back. If what you say is true, V'Ger isn't just 'it' anymore."

"V'Ger may not be V'Ger anymore."

"But it will be back?" Christine asked, wanting him to reassure her that they hadn't just unleashed the big daddy of all nightmares on the universe.

"Years from now, if ever." Spock rubbed Jim's head.

Christine watched him, her hand resting on Jim's belly, while she pressed her head into Spock's firm body. "We can't worry about it," she said. "It's not like we controlled what happened. At least, I don't think spontaneously mating is the preferred action for first-contact situations?"

"It's not?" Jim rolled over and began to tickle her, until she captured his hands. "And why not?"

Spock nodded as if Jim had said something very sage. "Indeed. Our dealings with other species might proceed more smoothly if all parties had sex with each other first."

She laughed. "You're high."

"I am indeed." He moved his hand to her head. "I am addicted to the two of you. And that may have been the only thing that saved us. So if I were you, Christine, I would not be too disdainful of that."

"Oh, disdain was not the emotion I was going for," she said, as she scooted down until she had access to another part of him—also very firm—and showed him how far from disdain her emotions were.

Jim smiled as he watched, then he began to pleasure her. She moaned, then felt Spock shifting underneath her, rearranging himself and pulling Jim closer so he could finish the circle. 

Then there was nothing but the sound of three people—three people in perfect union.

FIN


End file.
